Lift Your Head to the Blows of the Rain
by threader
Summary: -REBIRTH OF RAIN by PHANTASMBREAKER168 REVAMP- At one point, they died, simple as that. They did not expect to reborn in a new world filled with magic. (or Ame Orphans reincarnated as the Golden Trio) -ON HIATUS-
1. Prologue: Cessation of Falling Drops

**A confession: I wasn't always known as threader over this side of the internet. I was once known as phantasmbreaker168 and my most famous story is entitled as "Rebirth of Rain". That was three years ago. A lot of things happened since then, I wouldn't tell you since I'm not here to tell you my life story. Long story short, I revamped this crossover.**

 **First of all, I am sorry to all my reader who would come across this and realize I haven't updated in three years. I sincerely apologize for that.**

 **Second, I couldn't access my former account so I decided to make a new one. I just decided to rewrite the whole thing although the prologue is honestly the same thing.**

 **Third, if you've already read "Rebirth of Rain", there's no need to read this prologue, but I would appreciate it if you would leave a review, follow or favorite for this fic :).**

 **Cover image is not mine**

 **Title derived from Dylan Thomas**

 **Also, I'll try not to make Harry overpowered.**

 **Generic Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Naruto**

There were once three orphans who lived and died. They all passed on with smiles on their faces knowing that their dream of peace would live on the will of someone they can trust. They all languished protecting their friendship, for the safety of their companions and their desires in a cruel world.

They lived in a country of never-ending rain. One of the orphans would say that the deluge is the villagers' tears and vowed to stop it. The three were thrust into the horrible pangs of war. Their childhood was stolen by the merciless hands of fate. They spent their time raiding for food to ease the hunger they felt, and basically to survive in the cruel world they lived in. The orphans sticked together through thick and thin through the Hidden Village of the Rain.

War dawned on the tumultuous lands of the Elemental Nations. It was not the first nor the last one to ravage the continent. The series of events left all of them to die peacefully and happily, but even though their ending was met with contented grins of a life that is full of sufferings and hardships, their story was a sad one, one of the several tragedies that graced the land of the shinobi. One of them died for a companion in need. Another one sacrificed his life for the those he killed. The lone female of the group died protecting the dreams of her compatriots.

The Ame Orphans ceased to exist at one point, but they all woke up to a world different from theirs. The horrors of conflict were close to none in this world. It was a world of magic and and wonder, a world that was way too _innocent_ for their standards. A place where the biggest problem was figuring out what kind of candy you would buy, and not scouring for food on waste bins or worrying about the imminent doom to befall upon you. (Or maybe they were just lucky enough not to experience the horrors they previously experienced?) They were contented by this standards, happy even. They even got a childhood that they deserve and parents to look after them this time. Who were they to complain?

 **o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Harry Potter was a weird baby. He was often quiet and reserved. He was so quiet sometimes that his mother would be concerned. He observed his surroundings with a gaze not befitting for a child of that age. He would only make those annoying, whiny baby noises whenever he wants his diaper changed or if he was really hungry. The rest of the time… he was silent.

But magic seems to work miracles on the baby. His bright green eyes would sparkle with childish wonder whenever Lily and James would light up their wands with colourful sparkles. He would gurgle happily and clap his little hands together whenever his Uncle Padfoot would morph into his Animagus form and back as if he _knew_ what exactly he was doing. Magic made their little baby act like his age for once.

Then the Potters were forced into hiding after the prophecy was issued at Hog's Head. They lived in Godric's Hollow, the cottage was protected with the Fidelius Charm so they would not be found easily. They assigned James' best friend, Sirius Black to their secret keeper, but due to his insistence, they switched the role with another one of the Marauders, Peter Pettigrew. Not even Dumbledore or Remus knew of it.

Harry attached himself to his mother like how chewing gum was sticking to healthy hair, difficult to separate the two, much to James' disappointment. Lily would just smile at her son and cuddle him warmly and would comment how adorable little Harry was. Harry enjoyed every moment of it. Whenever it comes to strangers though, Harry would hesitate. He seemed to hate being picked up and held by people he didn't know, although when it came to cuddling with his parents, he was all in. Also, he seems to be truly fascinated by his toys, the magical ones especially more so. His father was so giddy when Harry showed signs of being a prodigious flier with his little toy broomstick.

Lily would sometimes catch his son's eyes shift into something else entirely. Harry's irides would turn into light purple with ripple-like pattern that spread out through his sclera, but they would turn back to their normal emerald hue just as quickly as she thought they appeared. The witch would just dismiss it as a trick of light, and would proceed to whatever business she was doing.

James was so proud of his son's little cases of accidental magic. Call it little, but they more often than not involve with a lot of property damage on the Potter's part. Things around his room would cram up in the corners like a badly arranged bedroom and pushed together as if the surrounding repulsive force made them the way they are. And then the floor would also cave in as if somebody tried to split the ground and failed miserably at it. It caused a lot of problems for the Potters. They had a difficult time fixing and arranging back the things back to normal. The little incident was never repeated again, much to Sirius and James' disappointment.

But all things changed on the All Hallows' Eve in 1981.

 **o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Nagato felt weird being alive again, even more so as a healthy baby. He was stuck in a body of a baby with a mind of a shinobi that survived through three wide-scale World Wars. (He was technically a zombie in the last one, but hey! He still fought as a warrior and as a shinobi, albeit reluctantly). But who cares? He's got a family again, and he has parents that love him to boot, although, he felt spiffy about their friend Peter. He couldn't put a finger on it yet but leading a small group of traitors and mercenaries gave him a good insight on people willing to betray others' trust.

He would often wonder about the things around him, especially his parents. They sometimes bring out their long stick thingies that would pour out with colourful sparks like a lit firecracker, but he was thoroughly amazed with what his godfather could do. He would transform into a huge black dog to entertain him. He was a bit miffed at first, he was certain that it was by no means a genjutsu, or some kind of stupid henge that he uses. He could _actually_ make himself turn into a dog and back as a human.

Sometimes, when he is alone he would try turning his Rinnegan on and off. He loved the colour of his new eyes and it was probably a little freaky if his eyes would change somehow. As far as he was concerned, the people he have seen so far have _normal_ eye color, and none of them would be happy to find out he has ripples in his sclera. He was a bit careless about it, he would turn them on sometimes when he thought his parents were not in his room, would panic for a second, and quickly turn them back off.

One time, he practiced Shinra Tensei with his small reserves. He noted that he should take care of it much sooner, but since he was an infant, it would probably replenish to their normal levels as he grows up. He was giddy of the fact that he could still do it, granted that it drained him much more than he expected it and the _collateral_ damage in his room was a hassle to fix.

He catches snippets of conversations at times. As far as he was concerned, his parents were fighting in a war, a war fought in secret, but a war nevertheless. He died a little in the inside. War brings a lot of pain and unpleasant things, and he would likely lose his parents this time around, just the same as he had in his previous life. They were against a man with a silly name who is considered as the Dark Lord. From what he gathered, this Mouldy-Wart something or other was a prejudiced bastard who wanted to get rid of the filth in the Magical Community. He immediately hated the man when he heard that he freely kills the people who are against his resolve, and actually _enjoys_ it. Nagato could feel his bile rising at the thought of monsters that enjoyed killing. Yes, he had killed, but he did so because he was blinded by the notion that he was doing the right thing to achieve peace. He knew no world was perfect, this new world probably has its own set of problems that needed to be solved. But, he is a shinobi in a child's body. It was selfish for him to think of it, but since he has the choice now, he was going to enjoy the childhood that he never had.

But that dream shattered on the All Hallows' Eve of 1981.

He was playing with his father, of course he went along and played the role of a happy child. Puffs of colorful smoke exploded from the tip of the wand. He laughed and pretended to catch the smoke. Lily entered through the door, James threw down his wand to the sofa. Then he sensed something. Something malevolent and with evil intentions was coming in to their home. Before he could pinpoint the source of the evil aura, the door was blasted open by its hinges. Both his father and mother screamed.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go run! I'll hold him off!", James instructed. Harry wanted to scream, _his wand wasn't anywhere near him!_

His mother rushed up the stairs, carrying him tightly and whispering reassurances. But it was too late, Harry could see a poisonous green light filling the cramped threshold of their small cottage. Nagato felt something rise up his throat, _guilt,_ he felt his father's life force disappear like a candle in the wind. He wanted to cry, but there was no time for mourning when they were under attack. Lily was pushing furniture and other knick-knacks to barricade the enemy. He couldn't sense the familiar thrum of her wand. His mother gently dropped him to his crib. Nagato noticed the mournful expression on his mother's beautiful face. This was a dead end, literally. He wasn't prepared to face such loss again. This was too soon!

"Harry, you are so loved", Lily said, "Mama loves you. Dada loves you." This feels like a goodbye. "Harry be safe, be strong."

The door suddenly flew open and Lily spread her arms wide, as if to protect her precious baby from the Dark Lord.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl . . . stand aside, now."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead —"

"This is my last warning —"

"Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy . . . have mercy. . . . Not Harry!

Not Harry! Please — I'll do anything —"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

Harry pushed every last bit of chakra he has for an attack. He saw his mother drop dead like a marionette suddenly cut off from his strings. All Harry saw was red. He pushed every last bit of his meagre chakra for a single attack.

He saw the snake-like man inspect him, Voldemort or whoever this monster's name was, widened his eyes. Harry knew that his eyes were their unnatural Rinnegan state. He raised his chubby baby arms.

Voldemort, alarmed, flicked his wand and intoned, " **AVADA KEDAVRA!** "

' **SHINRA TENSEI'** , Harry thought and before he knew it, Harry's limited vision turned to blackness.

 **o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Ron Weasley gazed at brilliant blue sky longingly. Who knew it was _this_ beautiful? The calming azure shade that painted the heavens, it was relaxing and soothing to the soul. The puffy, white clouds were like the cotton breaths of little cherubs that he would often see on the tapestries. He perched himself on the rooftop of the burrow, admiring the beauty of the blue sky. He was never a big fan of heights, but buildings in Ame always looked like steampunked satellite towers and they would sometimes climb these towers just to kill time, during those times when things were relatively simple and Konan, Nagato, and him would raid the town for food, and other odd jobs to support themselves.

Molly and Arthur always found this weird quirk of his alarming. It would cause more than a few broken bones if he ever falls off from the rooftop.

"Come on, Mum. He'll be safe, he's done it for several times and hasn't been hurt yet", the eldest, Bill, would coax her. Molly, being the mother hen that she is would glare at him.

Ron is a carefree child. He is cheerful and possesses a goofy smile that makes the youngest Weasley son to effortlessly charm the people around him. The grinning idiot would help the terror twins in experimenting with their prototype merchandise (thanking all that is holy he wasn't the receiving end of any), arrange traps for the unlucky victims (mostly their brothers), and devising their escape route if ever a prank has gone wrong (which rarely happens). He is also quite charismatic and has the aura of a natural-born leader that made Percy envious.

"This is a corrupted society", he would declare using the dinner table as some kind of elevated platform.

"Look at the minister", he would exclaim pointing on a badly drawn caricature of Cornelius Fudge. ("Hey, you can't blame me if I'm bad at drawing!"- Ron. Fred and George snickered). "It may not be obvious, but Fudge is a person who desires power above all things. Without Dumbledore, what is he? He allows himself to be drowned in galleons by guilty people who walk free. What do you think is the reason why those stinkin' rich pureblood, prejudiced, bigoted idiots? Because of the money! Because he allows himself to be blackmailed by people who work for Mouldy-shorts!...", and he would continue his inspired rant about power, greed, leadership, friendship, yadda, yadda.

"You know-", Fred started .

"If you listen-", George continued.

"much more carefully-", Fred would say.

"it actually makes sense", the two chorused together.

And then Percy would argue about his reasoning with heavy basis on written laws , and unspoken rules and such. Everyone knows that the glasses-wearing redhead aspires becoming the Minister of Magic one day, and sticks on the laws like mud. Needless to say, he was disturbed by his brother's logic of breaking rules to make change.

Then goes, "I cry bullshit!", and Ron would proceed to curb stomp Percy in a heated debate with powerful words and large vocabulary. The Weasley brood would watch these tirades as a form of entertainment. Who knew that Ron has such a colourful vocabulary?

 **o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Yahiko gazed at the pouring rain. It was August and the torrential downpour would come at this time of the year.

"I hate the rain", he would explain to little Ginny, who wonders why her brother would look at the rain with sad eyes, "It's sad and I hate it. It wasn't long since Voldemort had risen to power"-she flinched at the mention of the name, "-It's like the country is a big crybaby, like they never moved on. It's like the heavens resonate with their sadness… to remind what they have lost in the war."

He had a family now. A loving mother, a hardworking father, _fiv_ e big brothers: awesome Bill, reckless Charlie, rule-abiding Percy, mischievous Fred and George, and he has an adorable little sister in the form of Ginny. He wondered why he was _alive_ again, as his own and not some puppet controlled by his best friend. He remembered all those things he had done as the Deva Path. The destruction of Konoha, battling the nine-tailed jinchuuriki, and hell, he even remembered that he along with the other paths killed Master Jiraiya.

He was a bit miffed about Nagato though, sure he had continued the dream he wanted ,but he was being blindly controlled by what's his name again? Uchiha Madara. He was also curious about the Uzumaki Naruto that he battled, he was also the student of Master Jiraiya.

 **o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Mr. and Mrs. Granger always knew that their daughter Hermione was a smart child. She would always bury herself in books, and is always eager to learn new things. She was fascinated with the latest developments in technology, and would ask questions on things she was curious with. But there was something wrong with her, she was way mature for her age. Her eyes possess longing and a faraway gaze whenever it starts to rain outside. It was as of the rain has something precious to her. And Hermione just seems to be so…aloof, indifferent to her surroundings, so emotionless that made the two wonder if there was something wrong on the way they raised their daughter. Her face never betrays any kind of surprise or reaction. But they knew that deep inside that she loved them, and they loved her back. She would smile sometimes, whenever there was a special occasion or when they give her something she does not ask for.

The dentists knew that their little angel was unique the moment she opened her eyes. They were focused and her gaze was always alert. She also had the reflex to inspect things thoroughly, eyes flickering with her surroundings. And sometimes, they caught her in the backyard sparring with invisible enemies with karate moves with grace and precision that they were confident that she can take care of herself. Although, they did wonder where she learned all those things from, and she would say "those ninja movies where they take down enemies with martial arts". They were fairly sure watching those ninja movies does not teach one how to become a master at hand-to-hand combat.

And the papers, the girl needed paper as much as a normal human would need oxygen. Hermione was a master in the art of origami. She can turn the most useless of scraps into a fine work of art with her natural knack of paper folding. She would make flowers, butterflies, birds, arrows out of them with practiced ease. She can make anything if she puts her mind into it. She even had a paper rose clipped on her hair with her customary bun and brown tresses frames on her face.

The bookworm would even turn paper into those strange star things that they have seen in ninja movies, and throw them fondly onto the walls of her room. Oddly enough, they _pierced_ through the concrete when normal paper _shouldn't_.

 **o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

Konan was fairly sure she died the last time she was aware that she was breathing. That goddamned bastard Tobi outsmarted her even after all those crazy preparations she made to make sure the deranged masked man would be blasted to smithereens. Uchihas and their Sharingan, no wonder Itachi decided to kill all of them overnight. They were too powerful for their own good. But then again, she ended up in a new world with no threats of war looming over the horizon, a fresh start for the kunoichi. There were only two conflicts in history that was considered as a World War, and the last one was 50 years ago. It was much better. At least, she even got to keep her powers intact.

She wondered why there was an owl rapping her window. She opened it.

 **o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

 **I know I should be updating one of my other crossovers (crossover addict right here!), but...okay, I have no excuse. Anyways, if you loved it, please leave a review. I am open to suggestions, just leave it in a review or PM me. I know I wrote this years ago. I'm thinking 14-year old me is a better writer than current me. Hehe...**

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 **Until next time! And, oh, leave a REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 1: Nagato I

**I thank everyone who left a review, followed and faved. I'm really thrilled whenever I see e-mails of people alerting to this story. From this chapter onwards, I urge everyone to leave a review. Here's a reason why:**

 ** _"Lack of reviews is the greatest killer of fan fic writers out there. We at the institute wish to let the public know of how they can pitch in to save our dying writers._**

 **Drop a review every other chapter. It may not seem like much, but reviews are actually what many of us want to see. That, and hits. Hits do make us happy but we don't really know if people like our story or not.**

 **I borrowed this from YagamiNguyen's profile page.**

Nagato could remember clear as day when he was rudely woken up from his deep slumber by an unearthly, high-pitched scream from a horse-faced woman.

Of course, Harry did the most logical thing a baby could do, and he released a great wail from his lungs. The woman immediately panicked and picked the baby from the basket and swung the infant from side to side and shushing him. Harry immediately calmed down and was promptly returned to his basket.

Wait… basket? Why was he in a wicker basket in front of an ordinary looking house in an ordinary looking neighborhood? Who put him here? He had a lot of questions that he had no answers and the worry overwhelmed his mind that he unconsciously whimpered.

Then, last night's events went flashing back in his brain. He remembered his father easily killed by the snake-like man who reminded Nagato a little too much of Orochimaru. He remembered his mother, beautiful, kind and brave Lily Potter pleading to the Dark Lord to spare her son and how she sacrificed all of her love to defend her beloved was much like the first life he lived.

 _(Parents, dead, dead, dead. Lightning flashing, illuminating the Leaf insignia on the murderer's headband. Hot rage surging through his veins, and power, indomitable power released from his eyes, losing consciousness, blackness of oblivion, then light and finding four bodies in his house. All of them cold and lifeless. Dead, dead, dead.)_

He had been so infuriated at that time, blinded by his anger, that he pushed every last bit of his meagre chakra reserves to a single attack. **Shinra Tensei** , he could remember repelling the mysterious green light with his most often-used jutsu. He could not remember anything after that because he fell unconscious. He was sleeping and enjoying his deep slumber when he was rudely woken up a surprised scream. He felt so tired and bone-weary, that he immediately went back to sleep.

The woman, one Petunia Dursley nee Evans, stretched her long neck to look around for nosy neighbors who might've heard her scream, luckily, the coast seems clear. As an excellent gossipmonger and peeper herself, she knows when anybody nearby is spying on her.

She noticed a letter tucked in the basket. She picked it up and briefly scanned its contents. The horse-faced woman glared at the baby. She did not know what to feel about this.

Petunia lifted the fresh milk bottles in one hand and a basket with a baby in another and went inside.

* * *

Ever since he could stand and walk and had a modicum of intelligence that he can show without freaking out the adults, Nagato or Harry could remember being tasked with the chores. Apparently, three and a half was a good age to put your unwanted, no good burden of a nephew to work normally not done by toddlers. Harry was expected to clean the house and meet Aunt Petunia's ridiculous standards, tend the garden even in scorching heat of the summer sun, cook the family's meals and get almost none of the food, do the laundry and fold the clothes, et cetera. All this was done, and he still slept in the cupboard under the stairs.

He actually half-liked the chores he was doing, especially gardening. Tending and nourishing plants was a calming and happy experience for the young Harry. In his mind, Harry would like to selfishly think that Aunt Petunia should be grateful for him that her flowerbeds were flourishing with colorful and healthy blooms. He hated it when neighbors or visitors would take one look at the beautiful lawn and praise the horse-faced woman for her "hard work".

Days in Privet Drive was… tolerable. He didn't like it, nor he outright hated it. He had a roof on his head, scraps of food and spiders for friends. Okay, the last one may be a bit depressing. Nagato frowned on the idea of putting a child in a cramped cupboard with nothing but dust mites and stray spiders for companions, but well, you get the idea that he had at least have his basic needs like food and shelter.

Nagato always wanted a family, something that he could call "loved one" because of blood. The Dursleys (well, Aunt Petunia and Dudley, at least) were related to him by blood, but he thought that his condition and treatment would hardly qualify as what to do with your family. He vehemently refused to call Vernon and Marge as relatives, they hardly qualified.

Vernon always tried to beat the "freakishness" out of him. Key word being, try. His punches were always slow and sloppy. Harry liked to think that his dear uncle knew how to punch because he was a big bully and beat weaker people when he was younger. Nagato would never give the man the satisfaction of being an abuser to his unwanted nephew. Marge had her dogs chase the child, but oddly enough, the child made friends with the fat woman's brutal dogs. This cemented her belief that Harry was a no-good son of a worthless freak bitch. Nagato almost _almost_ terminated her because of what she said. There was no way Lily Potter was worthless! She sacrificed her life for him and Harry did not doubt that the redhaired woman loved him with all his heart. He could feel her protection embrace him like a warm blanket, comforting him in the worse nights (him locked up, and his gut grumbling and threatening to dissolve itself) in the Dursley house.

Dudley was a lost cause. He was a spoiled child, a concept that Nagato could not fathom until now. For him, childhood was running around Ame scouring for food and trying to survive day by day. Back then, in a world torn by war, one could hardly live a life like Dudley's (well, maybe the Daimyo and his cronies). He could not believe that horrible parenting like the one being done by the Dursleys could exist. Dudley's favorite victim was Harry. His gang's favorite pastime was a made-up game called Harry Hunting, which in Harry's part was a good practice for his speed and would've been a good exercise for Dudley.

Some days, he'd contemplate alone. He tried to reason with himself that he should be at least thankful to the Dursleys for providing a roof over his head (despite a cupboard could hardly be called a room) and the clothes on his back (despite Dudley's hand-me-downs four times his size could hardly qualify as garments). He made up his mind, so one day when he was seven…

"I know I'm not exactly welcomed in here. You won't admit it, but you hate me as your actions have proven so. So, I would make things easier for you, I would get out of here and never come back. You're not the family I deserve to have, but it doesn't change the fact that you are my relatives. I thank you for taking care of me for 6 years, even you were reluctant to do so. I also thank you for providing a roof over my head, although you just gave me a cupboard that is not the proper place for a child to grow. And also for the food I ate despite the fact that you just give the leftovers of my cousin like dog. I will not make things any more difficult for you. I am the little parasite that harms your normal lives. This might not be what exactly others want, but I believe that me getting out of this house will have mutual benefits for each other", he declared.

He had all his meagre clothes, his blanket, and some fruit that nobody in this house would eat in a light backpack that was surprise, surprise, used to be Dudley's

Vernon was more than happy to throw the freak out. His dear uncle even gave him a wad of cash so "you can take care of his bloody self before the Bobbies would throw you in the Juvenile Center where you could rot". Aunt Petunia seemed nervous for some reason, it was obvious in the way she casted glances at Harry's small, malnourished form. It was almost like she was scared of the prospect that he would not be in their custody anymore. Dudley was just trying to understand half of what Harry just said.

Surrey is the most wooded area in the whole of England. It was not difficult for Nagato to find a forest to sleep, he thought that it was better to sleep in a forest rather on the streets where people might find him and call Social Services. He didn't want to go to an orphanage, he'd heard of the terrible conditions in there. Vernon always threatened to drop him off to one of these places. For the first night, he slept on the cold soil with fallen leaves crunching underneath his back.

'Where would be a good place to get lost?', he thought. He officially was a runaway now, he wondered if somebody would find him. Those acquaintances of his parents, perhaps? No, if they knew, they would have taken Harry away from a neglectful home. He made up his mind and made a tentative plan. The next few years would be difficult, but he could survive. He knew it.

The next day, he got out of the forest and snuck onto one of the nearby houses to get a shower. He hadn't done infiltration in his life… ever. So, he was nervous when he tiptoed his way through the sleeping family's house and used their bathroom. After a quick shower and shunshin-ing the hell out of the house, he purposely got himself lost.

He followed the road and found himself standing near a sign saying "LONDON" and the distance between the two places. He looked around and noticed many people mingling and hurrying towards a train station. Harry could feel his heart leap on his chest, whether it was because of excitement or fear, he could not tell.

He mixed himself with the crowd and came upon a barrier where people usually would swipe a card and turn the metal arms to enter the train platform. Harry ducked under one of these metal arms and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, a thousand 'what-ifs' running through his brain. 'Get a grip of yourself', he chided himself. 'You used to be a leader of S-class criminals.'

The train stopped and Harry entered the metal wagon along with other passengers. The train stopped occasionally and people would get out and some would come in. He gripped the metal pole tightly, and tried to calm himself down. What if he would get stranded? What if he would be a victim of other people's schemes? What if Social Services would get hold of him and return him to the Dursleys?

The voice announced that the next stop would be London Victoria Station. A stop later, Harry exited the train along with many others. He climbed the stairs, and rode along some escalators. This train station was certainly more impressive than the one back in Surrey. A few minutes later, Harry found himself in streets of London and he could not stop his jaw from dropping.

His surroundings were admirable. Tall buildings, both old and new surrounded him. Bright red, double-decker buses lined the streets along with fast-moving cars. He absentmindedly started to walk around, his mouth gaping. He bumped onto someone and muttered a quick apology, the man returned his gesture with a middle finger. He ignored the man, and briskly walked towards nowhere in particular, a smile gracing his face. He was finally free!

* * *

That was four years ago. Nagato settled down in the woods on the outskirts of London. Near enough to the busy capital of England where he can get all the stuff that he needs, but far enough where civilians would not stray upon this particular path. He hid a certain are of the forest in a Five-Seal Barrier to prevent any intruders. Call it paranoia with the visages of his life as a shinobi, because the Ame nin also loaded the area around his house with traps that range from simple ones that hang people in one leg to the hastily gathered rocks that hide a pit that was stuffed with enough explosive tags to blow up the Big Ben.

His new home also became his own personal training grounds. He practiced his taijutsu, ran over the few genjutsus he'd known and reviewed the ninjutsus he'd known, which was… a lot. He also discovered that he still has the Six Paths' powers. He could channel the Deva Path's powers of utilizing the Force (he watched Star Wars once, he can't prevent himself comparing the two because of the similarities), he can summon his pets: a dog, a crow, and a chameleon, he is able to augment his body parts into armoured machinery, absorb ninjutsu (he did not know if whatever energy his parents used would be absorbed too), he can call forth the Demon King of Hell (although he has no paths to restore and the thing can only be useful during interrogations), and could pull out a soul and absorb any knowledge it has.

He only used the Deva Path's powers in small scale so that it would not cause an accidental and massive damage to property. It would be much of a hassle to leave the nearby city in a crater. He practiced absorbing ninjutsus with his clones, and practiced his taijutsu with the Asura Path's special ability. He promised to himself that he won't use the Human Path's powers unless absolutely needed. Pulling out souls just seemed to be inhumane and brutal. He never used Summoning or the nearby trees would be trampled easily, and he wasn't a Senju and certainly did not possess the Mokuton, he couldn't regrow a forest in seconds, thank you very much. The King of Hell is only useful for interrogation purposes.

He had a nice, secure tree house in the middle of a lush forest, at least it was unique unlike the houses in privet Drive that were identical to each other and had absolutely no touch of originality. It was furnished with few pieces of furniture and important appliances that he managed to buy with his hard-earned money. Although, the tree house took many months to create since he had to use his ninja skills to pickpocket unsuspecting London residents to buy supplies, hardware materials, and building equipment. He pickpocketed from snotty businessmen who had sticks shoved far up their asses.

Moreover, he spent at least three months returning to and fro in the Public Library to get the fundamentals of construction. The building part was easy, though. His large chakra reserves and a Kage Bunshin army did the work for him. He was able to finish his personal lounge in months.

He had once a passing thought in mind that it might be a good idea to go back to school, but immediately dismissed it. Learning things that are meant for little squirts with the mind of a grown-up shinobi were a piece of cake for him. Especially that he spent his time studying if not training.

He also sent out his Kage Bunshins under a henge to take up jobs, which earned him honest money. One was a bookshop keeper and the other was a janitor. The pay wasn't much, but with the pickpocketing skills he has, Nagato had enough cash to survive the next few years.

He also tried very hard to find his parents' friends. He could clearly remember Sirius and his dog transformation, now he wants to find him. Nagato tried finding records of his parents. He found Lily Evans's birth certificate and school record until she was eleven. After that, there was none. It was as if she vanished after her eleventh year. James Potter had no public record at all. This unnerved Nagato, was someone purposely hiding his parents' existence?

He could remember his parents waving around those stick thingies which released a pulse of energy which was not chakra. Nagato tried finding the source of this not-chakra energy within him, and found a wild, thrashing thing that resonated with nature. Senjutsu? No, definitely no.

Were those sticks wands? They could be… but wands were only owned by fairy godmothers who answered the beck and call of their damsels in distress. Who else could use wands? It was a silly idea, seemingly out of a children's book, but, were his parents wizards?

He shrugged his shoulder. Ninjas existed, so why not wizards? So was the not-chakra energy magic? He had no answers to these questions. He could only wait.

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